


Paradox

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Eddie is on the receiving end of Scarecrow's wrath, Jonathan is mortified, M/M, basically pretty messed up, dubcon elements, literal PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jon!" </p><p>"That's not who you're with," Scarecrow rasps against his neck, clawing at his shirt buttons and exposing his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradox

  
"Jon!" 

"That's not who you're with," Scarecrow rasps against his neck, clawing at his shirt buttons and exposing his skin.

"Will you- will you-" Riddler gasps out, one of the other man's hands curling round his neck and the other slipping down his pants to grasp at his cock.

"No," is the delightedly cruel answer, whatever the end to that question, Edward won't get what he wants. This isn't about sex, it's about control, and if Scarecrow can do anything well- it's _control_.

The other man's clothed erection presses against his as he arches his back.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" Riddler pants, a litany just to keep him focused. He has to concentrate on forcing out these breathless, sharp words or he'll lose his mind.  
Scarecrow laughs. Hollow and cruel, unnerving and dismissive. It sends a shudder through Ed, his fingers scrabbling at the other man's shoulders, whining with the desire to come.

"Please."

Scarecrow stops his ministrations. He stares at Ed- who whines in frustration as tears leak from his eyes- with as much expression as that mask can muster. 

"Please, what?" he asks, voice coarse and demanding.

Ed swallows nervously, another tremor racking his body. His leaking cock jumps against his stomach, flushed red and painfully hard. 

"Please  _Scarecrow_ ," Ed gives in. He knows beneath the mask is an awful, rotting grin, where Jon's face has peeled away to leave straw and maggots and ragged skin. He starts to cry in earnest.

The hand wraps back round his aching cock and starts to stroke him firmly. Before Ed can choke out his relief, Scarecrow's other hand is curling round his throat again, squeezing tight.

Riddler can't breathe. He can't. His heart is hammering against his chest and his fingers claw weakly at the restricting fingers.  
The pressure coiled deep in the pit of his stomach mounts and he's just desperate to come and then he can _breathe_.

"Come," Scarecrow says, no inflection in his voice. 

Ed would scream, but he can't. Black spots dance over his vision and as his body jerks, cock spilling over his stomach, he blanks out.

It could be seconds or minutes or hours later, but his eyes are fluttering open and a light pours into his eyes.

He takes great lungfuls of air, neck throbbing with undoubted bruises, his memory of before suddenly coming back to him.

Eventually, he steadies his breathing somewhat, yet his heart continues to pound. He surveys the room, but Scarecrow has gone and the clock says he's been out for six or so minutes. 

Ed gets up, almost _runs_  for the bathroom in residual anxiety. He showers mechanically, body almost on autopilot. He wonders how Jon would psychoanalyse this, then cries because he doesn't know who, or where Jon is. The bruises on his neck are livid purple fingermarks, and there are deep scratches on his arms and sides.

When he leaves the bathroom, hair dripping, Jonathan Crane is waiting on his bed.

The taller man stands quickly. 

"Let me dress," the Riddler tries to say, dignified, but his voice is hoarse and it cracks.

Jonathan leaves him until he reluctantly comes out from the bedroom.

They stand in the living room, safe distance apart, both trying to stay expressionless.

"Are you alright," Jonathan... _states_. 

Ed does not answer, just crosses the gap between them to slip into Jonathan's relieved but surprised embrace, because this is proof enough for him that Scarecrow and the good doctor are two different entities.

"I hurt you," Jonathan says, tracing the bruises on his neck, pulling him closer. 

" _Scarecrow_  hurt me," Riddler replies, leans up to kiss him lightly.

"I am sorry, Edward," Jon tells him. "This is not fair on you."

Ed just huffs, rests his head on Jonathan's chest. "I need you."

Jonathan laughs, a proper, beautiful, intimate sound that is _nothing_  like Scarecrow. 

"What?" Ed asks, almost irritated but too content that Jon is back to have any real malice in it.

"Just you," Jon murmurs. "Remarkable."

Ed hides his smile in a proper kiss this time, hands tracing Jon's jaw, hoping the other man can't feel him shaking (of course, he can).

"I know I am," Riddler shrugs nonchalantly, grinning.

Jon returns it, if a little hesitant, then his expression turns serious. "We will talk about this."

"Yeah," Ed retorts, then his contented smile is back in place. "But not now. Take me to bed, Jon."

They don't get to sleep for a long time after that, lying there wide awake curled up together, thoughts racing. 

Ed never feels more terrified under Scarecrow's hold, but with Jonathan, he feels safest.

And _that_  is a paradox.

**Author's Note:**

> Quickly finished today for my personal Monday PWP challenge ... :'P


End file.
